


Welcome home, Badman

by OwlFeathers (AngelofAlderaan)



Series: The Badman/Regrets [1]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Angst, Character Development, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Points of View, Romance, Three Year Gap (Dragon Ball), Vegebul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:52:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23823373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofAlderaan/pseuds/OwlFeathers
Summary: Vegeta is on his way back from looking for Goku, and Bulma decides to make him feel welcome.  This is a little tale involving the infamous pink shirt and why Bulma had it for him when he arrived.This story started as dribble but it's becoming a little bit of a Beauty and the Beast tale.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs & Vegeta, Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Series: The Badman/Regrets [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716502
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	1. The Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place right before Vegeta comes back from space continues onward through their relationship. This can be considered a side part of Deepest Regrets, but can be read on its own. 
> 
> As a cosplayer, this idea struck me when Bulma said she created the outfits she wore for their Namek adventure, and I let it stew for a while until I came up with this!

Vegeta's ship was running out of fuel. Bulma was a bit worried that he wouldn't come back and get stranded, but to take her mind off things, she was busying herself for his return. If Yamcha had any idea, he would have been jealous, she knew, so she hid it all under the pretense of a regular shopping trip. When she had even mentioned she had had a weird dream about him the previous night, her former bandit boyfriend had lost it. So best to keep this trip under wraps.

After everyone returned from Namek, the warrior prince had stayed in a capsule home on the property along with the Namekians. The difference being, he had this home all to himself-no Namek wanted anything to do with him. Which had been fine by him from what Bulma could tell. He never asked for anything, but her mum made sure he was well fed, as well as the rest of their visitors The prince never wore anything but his fighting clothes, not even when her mother offered to get him something new. For weeks, Bulma had watched him from her balcony go about his day, starting his morning with katas, and then flying off to go do heaven knows what for hours, only to return in the evening and meditate under a tree. He was a mystery to her. The Saiyan didn't seem to take notice of her observance, which she was glad of. Months ago, this warrior had frightened her, but the more she watched him, the more her heart went out to him. 

He was lost. 

Krillin had told her he had spent his whole life under Frieza's thumb, trying to find a way out, a way to become what he felt he was destined to be, what he was told he could be by his own father. His revenge was taken by some no name warrior from a back water planet, and his destiny to become a Super Saiyan pulled out from under him by this same man. His life's ambitions were gone. So he stayed on Earth and waited for Goku, to learn how this unassuming martial artist became the strongest warrior to live.

Bulma wasn't surprised when the Saiyan Prince had run off with the ship to find Goku when he had learned that he was alive, but she found herself a bit melancholy. Once he and the Namekians left, the whole compound was quiet again, almost as if their whole adventure off world had never happened. Yamcha, well Yamcha was Yamcha, and that was a comfort to a point. But she couldn't help but feel wistful, thinking of the prince from the stars.

At the mall, she zipped in and out of stores, looking for clothes for Vegeta for when he arrived. He was smart, he would come back, maybe even with Goku, she hoped. Thinking about what she knew of the Saiyan, the heiress got him work out clothes and then some casual things, as well as shoes, socks and under clothes. She had to make a guess at sizes as she went, but she knew enough about what Yamcha wore from buying him clothes over the years to go off of. 

It might have been the early afternoon iced coffee she was sipping in the last store she arrived in, but she was feeling a bit giddy with the thought of the Saiyans returning home. Then she spotted it, the perfect pink button down shirt. Well, to her it was more salmon, but had Yamcha been with her, he would have insisted it was pink. It would look great with his coloring.

Then an idea popped in her head. She grabbed the right size and practically ran to check out. Within the hour she was at her computer back in her work lab bringing her idea to life. She transferred the file over to her embroidery machine and got to work. Besides being a brilliant inventor, Bulma designed and made her own clothes, like what she wore on Namek. One can't just walk into any store and get clothes with the name "Bulma" embroidered on them, oh no! Sure, she could special order anything she wanted, but there was just something far more satisfying in making her own things when the idea struck her. In the back of her lab, she had a whole sewing station, with shelves for fabric, threads, and three different sewing machines, all with different capabilities. While the machine stitched away, she leaned back in her chair and sipped at the iced coffee she had started earlier, grinning. Her sense of humor was unique, that was sure, but she hoped that it would make the cranky prince feel like part of the gang when he returned. He so desperately needed to find his place, and she hoped it would be there with them.

When the embroidery machine stopped chugging away at the project, she clipped off the excess threads and carefully trimmed around the design she had created in thread. Next, she pulled out her every day working machine, pinned the new design onto the new button down and set to work stitching it on to the back of the shirt with a matching thread. When she was done, she snipped threads and held it up. The word BADMAN stood boldly out on the back. She grinned from ear to ear. 

*****

She heard the rumble before she saw anything, but she knew it was the ship. Bulma dashed to the yard looking to the sky. Sure enough, in the early morning sun, a metal object gleamed against the blue. Within moments, the Capsule Corp ship landed smoothly on the lawn. She waited nervously for the gangway to come down. When it did, a dark figure was silhouetted in the door way, flame hair shooting to the sky. The Saiyan prince marched out and locked eyes with her. She couldn't help but grin, glad he was back. He took her hand and kissed it, and she felt a blush rush to her cheek. "Welcome back, Vegeta." Dark eyes flicked up to hers from her hand. He leaded in and kissed her, ever so gently--

****

With a loud blare her alarm clock went off and she shot up in bed. The blunette quickly silenced it and heaved a breath. That was the same dream she had had a few nights ago. But why was she having these dreams? She laughed a little to herself. Yeah, right. He might be a prince, but he was _far_ from a prince charming. At least dream Vegeta treated her with respect. Something that none of her friends really did. She sighed. Deep down, she knew why. All these years she acted a little dim because it made Yamcha feel more comfortable. Truth was, she knew she was far smarter than all of them, and it would have been intimidating if she just let that part shine, especially for Yamcha. So she was treated as "Yamacha's spoiled, ditsy girlfriend" and she had grown used to it. As happy as she was that all her friends, including Yamcha were back, after what she went through on Namek, things just felt different. This dream made her aware that there was an ever widening gap between her and the desert bandit.

The morning went by lazily. It was a Saturday, so no work for today, though she had taken a lot of half days recently. Not like she really was needed in the lab at the moment. The Capsule Corp. scientists were busy coming up with new ways to use the information the Namekians had gladly shared with Dr. Briefs in new tech. All she really needed to do lately was go over schematics and prototypes with them and make adjustments or give green lights for production. 

Then she heard it. The rumble from the dream. She had been on the deck at the time, but Yamcha and Puar lept off and landed on the lawn and ran towards the ship, which crashed to earth. Bulma had to take the long way, but caught up just in time to watch Vegeta leap off the gang way and start arguing with Yamcha. Her heart sank when she saw that Goku wasn't with him. A foul stench of body odor followed the Saiyan. So much for the prince in her dream. She rolled her eyes at the display of testosterone in front of her. Then an idea struck her to break them up.

"Hey guys, what's that awful smell?" She strode confidently over to Vegeta. He stiffened out of his fighting posture as she approached, throwing him off. "Oh!" She poked a finger on his armor. "It's you. When's the last time you bathed there, bud?" She wiped a smudge off of it. "You need a bath." She teased. Indicating the house, she began to walk. "Please, this way." Yamcha stood there in shock. Good, a little taste of his own medicine for flirting with all those girls and cheating on her, she thought. 

However Vegeta didn't budge. Oh no, he really did need a bath, she wasn't letting this go. "Well, what? You want me to roll out the red carpet?"

This garnered a response finally, he made a fist and growled at her. Then he seemed to concede, placing his hand proudly on his hips and began to follow her. Well at least _someone_ listened to her, she thought. He paced behind her, almost sheepishly, and she held her head high in triumph. Her dream may not have come true, but had he tried kissing her with that odor, she would have gagged.

Moments later, he was in her shower, cleaning up. She skipped over to the room she had set aside for Vegeta and grabbed some clothes for him, including the new pink shirt. She giggled to herself. This was going to be fun. Maybe it would help him let down his guard and fit in. She tossed his dirty things in the wash. Everything looked trashed, and her mind set to work. Perhaps she could make him some new battle gear. He seemed most comfortable in it, and very handsome to boot. She took a glace towards the frosted glass. Beyond it, she could just make out the back side of his chiseled form. Was he even real? She shook the thought out of her head and quickly looked away.

"Hey you, I left you some fresh clothes!" She chirped. He didn't respond. She rolled her eyes. She was trying to be nice! " _Hello_? Are you alive in there?"

"I heard you, you can leave now!" His voice growled behind the glass. What a jerk, no wait, more like spoiled brat. She was Bulma Freaking Briefs, no one talked to her like that.

"Why _yes_ master, your wish is my command! Ugghh!" She threw her hands up and huffed out of the bathroom, back towards the deck to her friends. He was infuriating, but deep down, she still couldn't help but feel sympathy for him.

Krillin had arrived shortly after Vegeta landed, sensing his energy. He was leaning back in his chair, pondering the whole situation. "Yeah, that Vegeta is nothing but trouble. He's so unpredictable, it's hard to tell what his motives are."

"I think he just wants to find Goku. Poor guy, he's obsessed." Yamcha offered. 

Bulma made her way from the doorway to join the group. They had him all wrong. Sure, he could destroy the planet, but he had months here when he could have done that. No, she had watched him, she knew better. "He's used to getting what he wants. That's all. He's like a spoiled little kid."

Not skipping a beat, Yamcha snarked back. "Man, sounds like you!" But instead of getting mad, she gave this a moment's thought. Perhaps, Yamcha had a point, they did have something in common. She would be the first to admit that at times, she could be a bit of a brat. Most of their trip to Namek had consisted of her whining and complaining about everything.

Her thoughts were cut off by a gruff voice in the shower. "Hello, servant woman? Bring me a drying cloth at once!"

Servant woman? Who did he think she was, a household employee? Had he thought that back on Namek, too, that she was hired the help? Any hope she held out for someone to actually respect her and see her for who she really was just flew out the window as her blood began to boil. 

"Woman, can you hear me?" Woman? Oh, no, he wasn't getting away with that.

"I _hear_ you! But my name is Bulma, and I am not your servant! Say please." There, that would set him straight. She was Bulma Freaking Briefs and she was no one's servant.

He growled back. "Grr, forget about the stupid drying cloth." Oh no, she knew this tactic, she had used it herself. She was not falling for this. 

"Suit yourself. Drip dry, you jerk." She heard him moving about the bathroom now. Then there was a long pause.

"What, is this some kind of joke?"

He must have found the shirt. She tried to act as innocent as possible. "Is what a joke?"

"These garments that you left, are they for a man or for a woman? They're pink!" She could only imagine his incredulous face. 

Now she was trying to hold back a giggle. "C'mon, it's the style here!" That much was true. Pink _was_ all the rage in the stores right now.

On the other side of the door, she heard the prince mumble, "Men in pink, how bizarre." The others now got what she had done and she winked at them, which caused a burst of laughter. That would take him down a peg, and maybe push down his pride enough to actually interact with everyone and get to know them. She wondered if he had seen the back. Wait, could he even read it? She hadn't even considered this until that moment. Her brilliant idea might have been wasted. Oh well, at least the pink idea might be working the way she imagined.

"This is ridiculous." The Saiyan prince marched from to the balcony fist clenched. Bulma stopped laughing when she saw him. He actually looked really nice in that shade like she had thought. And the pants she had picked clung to his muscular legs. "I'm a warrior...not a...a variety of flower."

Vegeta looked like he was about to have an aneurysm; a vein pulsed in his forehead. "Well, you smell good." A hint of flirtatiousness was in her voice, then she found herself laughing again along with the rest of them, while the Prince of all Saiyans demanded that they stop it or he would blast them all, which quickly frightened the warriors into silence.

But Bulma knew better, behind this threats and shouting, was a lost man who needed to find his place. "Loosen up, fighting's no fun. Just relax!" For some reason, he seemed to back off a bit. "If you want to find Goku, just stay here. He'll come! I've known Goku since he was five years old, trust me, he'll be back." _I know it,_ she thought.

This news seemed to surprise him, but he settled down. A low rumble came from the Saiyan's stomach. Embarrassed, he put a hand to it. She giggled. "When was the last time you ate? Listen, I'm not an amazing cook, but it's a nice day and we had planned on kabobs for lunch, let me make you something, then you'll be less grumpy." She pulled out a chair, indicating he take a seat. His dark eyes bore into her, but he took it. The others seemed amazed that she had any sort of influence over him. Heading down to the kitchen she got the plates of food her mum had prepped for them that morning, along with sauces and piled them on a large tray. Puar followed her in and helped her bring paper goods back up to the deck. Within the next fifteen minutes food was on the grill sizzling. Bulma stole glances over at the alien prince. He was watching her movements, and she heard his stomach growl again. "Hang in there tiger, it's almost ready. Do you have a big appetite like Goku? If so, I might need to make more."

Dark eyes seemed to soften a bit. She wondered if he liked the fact that she seemed to know about his eating habits. He nodded, "Yes, Saiyans have great appetites."

She grinned and ran down stairs to grab more supplies. Searching the fridge, she spotted the perfect item for the Saiyan: spare ribs. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, she mused, grinning as she snatched the rack of ribs from the fridge. 

When she got back to the group, Vegeta was back on edge again, arms crossed in his chair, clearly upset. "Hey Bulma, I just noticed the back of his shirt." Yamcha indicated with his thumb Vegeta. "Badman, good one. Way to warn the world!" The group broke into laughter.

If she didn't know better, she would have thought the prince was...embarrassed?

She frowned at them all. "It was meant to be ironic, Yamcha!" She slammed the ribs on the table and the laughter stopped. They all looked at each other, confused. But Vegeta's scowl softened a bit as he gazed at her. Bulma offered a gentle smile. Did he understand that she was trying to be playful, to help him fit in? She hadn't meant to pick on him, but now she wondered if she had actually hurt him instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that a lot of this is dialog right from the show, but I wanted to examine Bulma's thoughts during that scene as well. This is just chapter one, and the final chapter has been written, but I have some more to this story I am also working on that I want to flesh this out with! Please subscribe for more, cause I am currently working on it, and it should be up by next week!


	2. Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where the story sort of hits some of Beauty and the Beast themes. Sorry/not sorry. Somehow it happened and it works lol
> 
> Added more to the end of this chapter 4/27/20

Months had passed since Vegeta and Goku had returned. Bulma had set the Saiyan prince up in his own room, and her father got the ship fixed with the gravity machine running. The Saiyan spent most of his days in there, training to achieve Super Saiyan. His routine was simple, breaking only for meals and sleep. He rarely ate with the family, but on the rare occasion he did, he didn't speak much. He was still very much an enigma to her.

One night she was down in the kitchen late after dinner, making herself a bowl of ice cream. Yamcha had long since gone home, and she was struggling with her feelings for him again. Things still didn't seem, well right. She couldn't put her finger on it, so she looked for solace in her favorite tub of strawberry ice cream. A familiar gruff huff came from over her shoulder. She glanced back to find Vegeta staring at the back of her shirt. "Why is your name on the back?"

She set her spoon down. "So you _can_ read it!" He crossed his arms and huffed, mumbling something. "What?"

"I've been learning." He repeated for her, looking away, his face flushed with embarrassment. She wondered when he had made time for it. Perhaps after everyone else had gone to bed? He didn't seem to sleep as much as most people.

Beaming, she turned around completely on the kitchen stool so she could look at him better. "That's great. You must be a fast learner." She encouraged. "What sparked your interest?"

The embarrassment turned to a scowl. "Badman." The word hung in the air. He hadn't worn the shirt since the day he arrived, not surprisingly, but she now wondered again if she had really hurt him. 

Her gaze fell to her lap. "Oh, I see."

"You never answered my question. Why is your name on the back of your shirt?" His voice wasn't mad at all, in fact, it seemed more curious than anything else.

"Oh. I dunno, guess I just like putting my unique mark on things." She shrugged. All of his curiosity just because she decided to be funny, and it backfired. She wondered what he thought of her.

A thoughtful look crossed his face. "Did you put your unique mark on the pink shirt?"

She offered a small smile. "Yeah, I suppose so. Listen, I wasn't trying to be mean--"

"The label was fitting. Though not the pink." He cut her off, crossing his arms.

"No, it's not. I was trying to be funny. I know you're not bad. Not really. You're just-" But he was cutting her off again.

"I _am_ a bad man." He sneered, leaning in and gripping the kitchen island counter on either side of her. "And if you need to label all my shirts that way so you don't forget, I suggest you do it." His eyes bore into hers and she felt her heart beating harder.

Her lips were suddenly dry. "No, you're not. Selfish and prideful, maybe, but not bad." She was trying to open doors, he he was violently shutting them. She had to make him see that.

With a sharp movement, he was upright once more arms crossed, striding out of the kitchen. "You think you know me, but you don't."

She felt heat rising to her face. He was wrong, and he knew it. "Yes, I do. Because you're a lot like me, stubborn and spoiled. But at least I admit to my flaws!" She found herself shouting at him. He paused in place, and dark eyes flicking back to her dangerously, but she was on her feet standing her ground. A scowl and he turned away, stalking back to his room.

Leaning heavily against the counter, she heaved. How long would it take before he would let someone in? 

*****

There was so much about this planet that was new and strange to Vegeta. Delicious foods, odd colloquialisms, pink shirts...

The woman had said that it was the style, yet all her friends laughed at him. Had the whole thing been a nasty prank? She had seemed sincere enough, but none of it made sense to him. Why the word Badman? They all had said she had labeled him to point out his flaws, but she said it was ironic. What out of that statement had irony? To his mind, he had committed atrocious acts across the universe that would deem him a "bad man"

It also wasn't lost on him that the woman had clothing already prepared for his arrival, as well as a room for him to stay in. Such kindness and hospitality had never been afforded him before, and it baffled him. Didn't she understand who he was? Vegeta was the Prince of all Saiyans, a warrior who had committed mass genocide across planets, who never showed mercy. How was it that Goku, and now this woman could be kind to him?

Bulma, her name was Bulma. Strange, but he would certainly not forget it. He remembered first seeing her on Namek, that blue hair was mesmerizing, he had never seen anything quite like it. She had a weak ki and had assumed from the way the Bald One was protecting her that she was their servant. However, that was as far as the first impression went, he was far too busy fighting Zarbon to really pay attention. When they had all been transported to Earth he spotted her again among the fighters. His impression at first that she was a bit of an air head, and was about to dismiss her once again when she told him that she thought he was "kinda cute," which really threw him off. No one had ever told him they thought him attractive. Most people outside the Frieza Force simply cowered in fear.

After arriving at the Capsule Corp. compound he hadn't really seen her much, save a few times when she seemed to be watching all the aliens from a balcony. He should have known better even then to assume she was some servant girl, the way she held herself was as one surveying their kingdom. She was the princess in this new empire and he hadn't a clue.

But then why take the time to make a room ready for him, to buy him new clothes? Had he been back on planet Vegeta, he would have ordered servants to do such work, yet she _chose_ to care for him. Even upon his return to earth, she got his shower ready, washed his battle attire, and then made them lunch. Later he would learn that the Briefs had cleaning bots and enough money to hire a whole staff if they wanted, but they were a humble family and enjoyed doing most tasks themselves. He found Bulma leaving his room every week with a pile of laundry in tow, fresh sheets on his bed and all his clothes from the previous week washed and put away. There was always more than enough food for him whenever he desired it, and they let him come and go as he pleased. On Earth, they could have been considered royalty, yet here they were taking care of him.

Vegeta should have felt entitled to be treated this way, he himself was royalty after all, yet deep down a part of him knew he didn't deserve this, their kindness. How could they care for him if Bulma saw him as a "Bad Man"?

When he first arrived back on Earth, he had set Dr. Briefs on making the Gravity Room for him, but while he waited, he had explored the campus further. On his first trip to Earth he had been more curious about the planet and had spent next to no time actually at Capsule Corp. save for meals, rest, and working out. This time he had been very curious about his new living situation. The woman- _Bulma_ -had insisted that he make himself at home. When he found the library, he made a note that he should return when everyone else was asleep and take a proper look. When he did, he chose books with more photos and less words, to try to teach himself how to read her language. Most intelligent life forms he had met had translation chips implanted into them as children, which meant they could understand and speak to others, but this did not cover reading. 

Vegeta was a fast learner, and within a month he was reading basic books. In fact, he had found some that he really enjoyed. One was called a collection of folk and faerie tales from around the world. But the tale that he found himself reading over and over again was about a proud prince who was cursed, and the merchant's daughter who took the time to show him kindness. It wasn't the romance that interested him, it was the girl, and the way she chose to show the beast kindness. He kept on thinking back to Bulma.

It frustrated him so much that each time he confronted her, he only said things that he would find were harsh and would regret later.

As the weeks passed, he worked harder and harder to hit his training goals, hoping to achieve what Goku had. He could have just gone and talked to the other Saiyan to understand how he had unlocked this power, but his pride wouldn't let him.

Then the accident happened. All he really remembered after the explosion was pulling himself out of the rubble, stating that he was fine, then collapsing. Bulma's voice was the last thing he heard, gently insisting he needed to rest. His head was full of nightmares after that, Goku and the boy from the future taunting him, and seeing his father's disappointed face. Over and over until his father's face turned into a full blown memory of the past, reminding him that it was his destiny to achieve Super Saiyan.

When he woke, he was shocked to find Bulma at his side, sleeping at the desk next to his bed in his room. How long had she been there? He removed the ventilator from his face and slowly sat up, trying not to wince in pain as the memories of his dreams played over and over again in his mind. He had to get back to his training. Quietly, he slipped out of bed and over to the door, glancing back at her. For a long moment he watched her sleep. She seemed so peaceful, the total opposite of the fire he usually saw from her when they argued. His eye caught the color pink under her head. That blasted shirt again. He shook his head with a little half smile and left the room and the sleeping woman.

*****

Bulma drowsily opened her eyes. When she lifted her head, she swallowed hard, looking towards the bed. The empty bed. Vegeta was gone. That stubborn ass! He was back at it, wasn't he? After all that, the idiot thought he was indestructible! She scooted her chair out to get up, and something soft fell in her lap. The pink shirt. She hadn't remembered putting it under her head. Rolling her eyes, she realized it must have been her mother. Vegeta never would have done such a thing. Speaking of...she was surprised the garment still even existed. She would have thought he might have thrown it out as soon as he got back from meeting up with Goku that day. She shook her head. He wasn't that sentimental, was he? It didn't matter, she was still royally pissed at the Saiyan.

Getting up, she paced towards the door and tossed the shirt in the garbage, where it hung over the edge, and headed over to the comm in her lab to go chew out the Saiyan Prince for his stupidity.

*****

It was late by the time Vegeta returned to his room. His whole body ached, and breathing was labored. He was fairly sure he had a cracked rib from the explosion. But he wasn't worried. Saiyan bodies healed faster than humans. Within the next few days, the injury would be a memory. He showered and changed for the night, returning to his bed. The prince flopped down on it, arms splayed to the sides. His thoughts drifted back to his argument with Bulma over the comm earlier that day. She had genuinely looked hurt when he had yelled at her, and now he was actually regretting it. But that blasted woman just didn't understand; Saiyans weren't like humans. They could take more, lived for every challenge presented before them.

Glancing over to the desk, he imagined Bulma once again sleeping at his desk. Just beyond it, something caught his eye-pink. But it wasn't on the desk as he would have expected, it was hanging off the edge of the garbage.

In one swift motion, he sat bolt upright and swung his legs off the bed, striding over to the discarded shirt. Bending over, he picked it up and regarded it. He flipped it over and gazed at the back of it, running a thumb over the letters that made up the word "Badman". Scrutinizing the embroidery and top stitching. She had taken the time to make this for him.

He gripped the fabric in in fist and closed his eyes, sighing deeply. Pacing back to the bed he sat down on the bed. Over and over she showed him kindness, and repeatedly, he dismissed it. Didn't she understand who he was, the terrible things he had done? How could anyone believe that Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans capable of anything other than destruction, and worthy of anything other than hate and fear?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come! Please subscribe. It should be out next week


	3. The Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But if you love someone, it's worth getting hurt."

THREE YEARS LATER

Space was cold and empty, void of the distractions and roadblocks Vegeta kept on facing back on Earth. Bulma said she didn't need him to have this baby, so he had left Earth. Had he been truthful with himself, he would have realized that he was hurt. But he was partially to blame for this. Had he taken the news that he was going to be a father better, perhaps she wouldn't have pushed him away. So he left, to be without the distractions she presented him. Besides, what kind of father could he be? He was a Bad Man, something he was reminded by daily when he stared at the pink shirt he placed on the generator. He didn't know what had possessed him to take it with him, but some how, he couldn't bring himself to leave it back on Earth. So he left it out, a memento of the woman he had left behind who said didn't need him, reminding him why he left in the first place each time he considered going back.

He had been working at 450 times gravity non stop for days, and until the storm hit. Now he was fighting for his life to keep his ship from getting destroyed from the meteors hurtling towards the ship, his only way off this rock. His body was weak from all the training, but he knew he had to keep the ship safe. Above him, a huge meteor hurtled down towards him. He could blow up things ten times as big, but with his energy drained, he strained to send one ki blast at it. After all his training, everything he had built his life towards, was his how it was going to end?

 _Freiza took away my throne, my planet. Then he twisted me into something of his own design. For years all I have thought about was how one day I would become a Super Saiyan and have my revenge. Then Kakarot not only took that revenge, but my destiny as well. Ever since that day I have striven to prove my worth, but if I die here, everything I ever lived for means nothing._ He cried out in heartfelt agony, letting go of it all, and stopped caring about all the things he had lost. Each moment had replayed in his mind, filling him with pure rage. Then something within him snapped, like a dam that had been within him his whole life. He screamed with a beast-like fury and a new power swelled within him. His aura glowed gold. Rocks swirled about him and power blasted into the atmosphere. 

The meteor above him erupted into a thousand pieces. One by one, he blasted the larger chunks away from his ship. Electricity swirled about him, aching in different directions. 

"I am Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans. I have had everything taken from me, but no one can take away my pride!" He shouted into the cosmos, his voice echoing against the stone around him.

Spent, he dropped to one knee, and the aura dissipated. The electric current faded, and Vegeta took in big breaths. Then it hit him, the irony of it all and he started laughing into the atmosphere. He had done it, he had unlocked Super Saiyan. All because he had stopped caring. Or at least that was the lie he told himself. If he had admitted the truth to himself, he would have realized that he finally let himself truly mourn the all the many losses he had suffered his whole life. He may have always seemed proud and angry outwardly, but this was simply a defense. All this time, he had kept all his emotions bottled up, to save himself from feeling anything while working for Freiza. That was until this moment, when he felt like everything was lost, and he might not get home to the one thing that he didn't want to admit he cared about: his new family.

Vegeta was learning to feel.

*****

Since the day Vegeta left, Bulma left her balcony door unlocked. He used to come visit her at night out there and they would gaze at the stars together. Somewhere deep down, she had hoped that he would return some night and waltz in through that door. She knew it was just a fantasy, but she never stopped hoping. Their last words towards one another had been in anger, and each day she had regretted telling him she didn't need him.

She never heard the rumble from the ship landing that night. She had lost a lot of sleep taking care of Trunks day and night, so any slumber she got was fast and deep. It wasn't until she started to feel cold and turn over in her bed that her eyes fluttered open. Her balcony door was open, the cool night air blowing gently in. Annoyed at the interruption from her rest, she swung her legs out of bed and padded over to the door. Only to stop short. There standing on her balcony was the prince. She rubbed her eyes to make sure what she was seeing was real. Quietly, she opened the door and joined him in the cool night air. The hardened prince stood stoically, gazing into the sky, just as he had done ages ago with her. 

Heart pounding hard, she took a spot by his side. What should say? So many things she wanted to tell him, that they had a son, that he was strong, that she missed him, and she was sorry to have parted on such harsh words. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shape her thoughts into words. Finally, she made a move, placing her hand on top of one of his that was resting on the balcony rail. "Welcome home, Badman." She used the name she had occasionally used to tease him in the past, hoping it would break the ice.

Sharp eyes bore into her. "Where is the child?"

Bulma looked back towards house. "Inside. It's a boy. I named him Trunks. It's...it's a family name. I didn't know any Saiyan names-"

"You always talk too much." Vegeta looked back towards the sky. "It's a fine name." He removed her hand from his.

Sighing, she felt like a load was off her shoulders. She knew his approval shouldn't have mattered to her, but somehow, it did. And she desperately wanted him to be part of their lives, but any hope of that was lost now. She had sent him away. Silence lingered a while longer. "Did you find what you were looking for in space?"

This time he took a step back from the rail. For a moment she thought he would fly off, and she held her breath. But he didn't, he stood there, a cocky smile crossed his face. "Yes."

The air around them began to shift and swirl about them. Bulma's blue hair started to whip about her face. The aura around Vegeta began to glow white hot, then gold. His hair lit up like the sun. Heat radiated off of him. He was beautiful, but somehow her heart ached. She knew how much this achievement meant to him, but in his Super Saiyan form, he looked so different, like the man she had fallen in love with was gone. This form was rage and heat. Like a magnet, she took a step towards him. He stiffened as she reached out for his him. "Bulma, don't get too close to me. You will only get hurt." He echoed words he had spoken when she had first fallen for him.

"I don't care anymore." Pushing through his golden glow, she felt the heat of a thousand suns. Pain shot through her nerves, but she fought it, and gently placed her hand upon his cheek. She felt tears sting her eyes. Gazing into his own now blue orbs, she looked deeply into them, desperate to find a shred of the man she knew. Then she saw it, just for an instant, the lonely Saiyan she had come to love. He pressed his eyes shut and the golden glow faded into the night, leaving the scent of sulfur in the air. He placed a hand gently against the one at his cheek, almost nuzzling into hers. Then as if stung, he quickly removed it and examined the appendage. Her hand was an angry red.

The prince frowned down at it then back at her. "You're so foolish. I said I would hurt you."

A tear fell from her cheek. "I know. But if you love someone, it's worth getting hurt."

His brows furrowed deeply, he straightened and shot off into the sky. There she had gone and done it again, she had said the wrong thing and he was gone. But she didn't regret what she had said. Sinking to her knees, she let the tears fall, aching to have him back and for things to go back to the way they used to be.

*****

Vegeta hadn't gone far, he had actually circled back and landed lightly on the roof of Capsule Corp. above her room. In the dark, he could hear her crying. The last time he had heard her crying was years ago, soon after living at Capsule Corp. He had never told her even back then that he had heard her crying. Something inside of him stirred, a pain. Part of him wanted to hold her and offer comfort, another part told him to remain distant. Then he caught it, her voice was small, but his superior hearing picked it up. "I know I said I could do this on my own, but I never said I wanted to..."

She always acted so strong, to hear her vulnerable like this hurt, and he didn't know why. Vegeta wanted to make it stop, to fix her and see that fire again that had attracted him to her. He couldn't bring himself to go down and comfort her. His damned pride once again was in the way. If she wanted him in her life, then she would have to ask. He didn't understand the human concept of love, but from the films he knew she watched, it seemed like a horrible weakness. Yet, when she admitted to him that she loved him, his heart pounded faster, and he felt stronger than ever. It was such a puzzle. Of course he wasn't prepared for such a confession, or even the feelings those words would bring, so he left...only to find himself right back where he was before.

He sat, knees to his chest, listening to her sob, something inside of him breaking. Why couldn't he leave her? What continued to bring him right back to her every time?

They had three weeks until the androids appeared. Until then, he decided to stay, if nothing else to see the child they had brought into this world.

*****

Vegeta must not have been as upset as she had supposed, because the next day he was down in the kitchen eating breakfast. Panchy was fussing about him, making him all his favorite foods. Bulma sat Trunks in his high chair and fed him breakfast, every so often chancing a glance towards the Saiyan. He was watching Trunks intently as he ate, almost as if he were a puzzle he was trying to solve. When the prince was done eating, he walked up to the boy, getting at eye level with him, face in a deep scowl of scrutiny. The baby let out a wail, which startled Vegeta backward. Bulma hushed the child as the Prince of all Saiyans stood and straightened his armor, leaving the room in a huff.

Later that day, Bulma laid Trunks down for his nap and decided to try to go talk to Vegeta again. She assumed he would be in the gravity room working out, but when she approached the ship, she didn't hear the familiar whine from the generators. Lowering the gangway, she made her way inside. "Vegeta?" Her voice echoed in the darkened room. She turned to leave, but something caught her eye. Neatly folded on the generator was the pink shirt. Hadn't she thrown that out? How was it that it kept on reappearing? She placed a hand on it, lightly stroking the word "Badman". Why had he taken it? Had he deep down wanted something to remind him that she still cared?

After lunch, the door bell rang and Yamcha ambled behind her into the living room. "Hey, I came by to see if you and the little fella might want to go out for ice cream!"

Before Bulma could even answer, a gruff voice was in her ear. "What is he doing here?" The blunette about jumped out of her skin. "You come to play daddy to my son?" She whipped around to find Vegeta glowering right over her shoulder. He must have sensed Yamcha's ki and decided to see what was going on, she realized. "Bulma, how long has this idiot been coming by?"

The two men glared at one another. "About once a week since you left." Yamcha stated not lowering his gaze.

The prince huffed. "Oh, and I suppose you were only too happy to be there for his birth?"

With this, the dessert bandit stared at the floor. The sudden change of attitude seemed to confuse the Saiyan. "No, Vegeta, I gave birth alone. No one was there." Bulma spoke up.

Suddenly the room was deathly quiet. After a time, Yamcha broke the stillness. "You mean you didn't know?"

"Know what?" Vegeta's hands were at his sides, balled into fists, unsure of what to do with himself.

Gently, Bulma placed a hand on one of Vegeta's fists, eyes focused on her friend. "He just got back, we really haven't spoken."

The prince threw his hands up in the air in a huff. "Would someone explain to me what happened?"

Now Bulma gazed at the floor, unsure how the father of her child would take this. Some moments, he seemed to care so much, and others, it was like she never existed. She mattered when it suited him, the spoiled brat, and it hurt. Yamcha's voice was soft. "She almost died, man."

Dark eyes shot her way, examining her from head to toe. "It was an emergency. I was at the mall getting some last things for Trunks. It was three weeks from my due date, but he had already caused some issues. I was on my way out when he kicked so hard he cracked a rib. I was rushed by an ambulance to the hospital. Mom and dad were hours away at a conference. They did emergency surgery to get Trunks out. But there were complications...I nearly bled out."

The room was silent for a long moment, Vegeta taking in this information wide eyed. She wondered if he felt guilty now for leaving her. "Yamcha has been coming by to check on me."

The scarred man smiled awkwardly at Bulma, "Listen, you guys have a lot to catch up on, rain check on that ice cream?"

Walking him to the door, she squeezed his arm. "That sounds great." A brief hug and the man was gone. Yamcha would have made a great dad, she knew it. And she could have even seen herself settling down with him and being happy, but her heart would have always belonged to Vegeta, and it wouldn't have been fair to the man, child or no. Slowly she made her way back to the living room. The dark prince was still there, arms crossed processing all this new information.

Once again, he seemed to look her over, trying to discern her state of being. She rolled her eyes, and shifted her pants down a little lower, revealing a bright red scar. Taking a tentative step over, he examined it, placing a finger lightly on the edge of one side. When he removed it, she shifted the edge of her pants back, covering over the mark. "I'm-"

"Strong." He cut her off. "As strong as a Saiyan." The compliment shook her.

Bulma offered a smile. "Thank you." Glancing back down at her scar, she repeated words she had told him before, "You know pushing others away doesn't make you stronger, it only hurts you and everyone else." He frowned. Bulma knew it was harsh, but he needed to hear it again. She had to make him see that his actions had hurt. The proud prince turned away from her and stormed off. His reaction stung, but it wasn't surprising. She wasn't sure what would happen after all of this was over, but she hoped in time they _would_ be okay. In her heart, she knew there was a man that cared. He just had to learn how to show how.


	4. Irony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But you hate that shirt. I'm surprised you didn't throw it out!"

It had been years since Bulma had seen the infamous pink shirt. Over time she had actually forgotten about its existence, until the morning Vegeta came in wearing it. The CEO was so busy getting ready for a big board meeting that day that she almost missed when her husband emerged from the bathroom wearing it. She was getting dressed in front of the floor length mirror when he passed by behind her towards the dresser, a pink blur. When it finally registered in her brain, she whipped around, mouth agape. "That's-"

"Yes it is." He didn't look away from digging through the sock drawer for a pair.

"But you hate that shirt. I'm surprised you didn't throw it out!" He straightened up, socks in hand, to face her.

"Why would I do that? You made it for me." His voice was serious. "The branding you did is a unique mark." He echoed her explanation from all those year ago. After all this time, the stupid shirt had actually meant something to him? The word shocked didn't even begin to cover what she felt at that moment. Then she recalled the last time she had seen it-on the generator aboard the ship. He had taken it to space with him.

He paced over to her, fixing her jacket collar. "So why wear it now?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "It's ironic." He placed his hands on her hips. "Although, I didn't see the irony until recently." He paused a moment, looking towards Trunks room next door. "You always did see the best in me, even when I didn't want to."

Reaching up, she lightly brushed her thumb across his cheek. "And I always will. Even when you struggle with your inner demons." Thoughts of his evil laughter at the World Martial Art Tournament flashed before her. Even then, she refused to believe that he had reverted back to his old ways. She leaned in and kissed him, as he brought her in close. After a moment, she pulled away. "I have to admit, I think I had a bit of a crush on you even when I made that for you!"

He raised an eyebrow in question. "Oh? I barely knew you." A chuckle escaped his lips. "I thought you were the warrior's hired help." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm aware." The words _servant woman_ rushed to her mind. No, that was something she never let him live down.

"I did think you were beautiful." He looked away, embarrassed. This wasn't the first time he had actually admitted this, but it was nice to hear it again.

It was her turn to laugh. "Nice catch there, bud. One more false move and it would have been the couch for you tonight. But seriously, I had actually forgotten until just now, but before you came back, I had been having dreams about you."

He crossed his arms, amused by this new information. "Oh really? What kind of dreams?" 

She explained her prince charming dreams to him, and as he did, she could see the amusement in his eyes. Oh, great, he could use this as ammo now, she thought. When she was done, he did something surprising, he took one hand in his, brought it up, and kissed it, looking deep into her eyes while he did so. She inhaled sharply, heart beating faster. Over twelve years later, and he still found ways to make her fall in love with him all over again.

"Sorry it took so long to learn how to treat a princess." His voice was low and serious. Bulma felt her face flush red. A knock at the door sent them both back to reality.

"Dad, Mom? You ready? Grandma says breakfast is ready!" Trunks' muffled voice sounded from the other side of the bedroom door.

"Be right down, son." Vegeta jumped in to reply before the blunette even had a chance to open her mouth. His eyes turned back to her, face back to his normal stoic demeanor. "You have a big day ahead." Going back to the bed, he sat down and pulled his socks on which had been left discarded there.

Work, yes. She turned back to the mirror and inspected her business attire once again, running a hand through her short blue bob.

Downstairs, Trunks was digging into a huge stack of pancakes, a plate of bacon steaming next to him. Her mother hummed happily at the stove, cooking another full serving of pancakes for the older Saiyan male. Bulma took her seat across from her son, picking up the hot cup of coffee her mother had made for her. "This all looks good, thanks mom. Did dad head over to the office already?"

"Oh he was up and out hours ago. You know how he hates to be interrupted." He had passed over the company to his daughter a few years back, but he still liked to go tinker in his office. The problem was that people often sought him out with fresh ideas or questions, and he rarely got to work on his own new ideas. So he arrived early and left early to avoid it.

Bulma shook her head. "You know, I keep telling him that he should just move all his stuff to the spare lab here. He doesn't need to be there for me, I've got this now." The first few months had been shaky, but Bulma had everything down to a science now. Panchy set down a huge stack of pancakes at Vegeta's spot next to his son, and on cue the Saiyan prince entered the room, taking his seat. He nodded his thanks to the family matriarch and dug in.

"Nice shirt, dad." Trunks stifled a giggle with a mouth full of bacon.

Bulma's eyes flashed up to her husband, wondering how he would respond. "Your mother made it." His eyes bore in to Trunks.

Sheepishly, their son looked away. Suddenly his breakfast seemed very interesting. After a moment, he hazarded a glace back over at his father. It was then that he spotted the word on the back of the shirt. Then it registered with the demi-Saiyan. "Oh! Nice job, mom. I really like it." He giggled again. So he got the joke. She always knew he was a smart boy.

Setting down her coffee, Bulma buttered an English muffin. "You know, I should make you some more shirts, maybe even a few for you Trunks-"

" _No!_ " They both shouted. She coyly hid her grin behind the muffin she lifted to her mouth.

After breakfast she watched as her two boys headed over to the Gravity Room for some morning katas. "You know, that shirt reminds me of a flower." Trunks tried not to giggle.

"One more word from you and you'll be training in 300G later." He paused for effect. "With weights."

The blunette shook her head smiling as she sipped at her coffee, then glanced down at her belly. No wonder they were all feeling nostalgic, their family would soon be bigger, and the next step of their adventure was about to begin.

Vegeta had a dark past that he would never truly be over, but to see how far he had come filled her heart with joy. She had never stopped believing in him, even when he didn't believe in himself. Deep down, she had always known her Badman was very good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! I have been toying with the idea of compiling both this and Deepest Regrets into one longer fic with some additions long the way. If that sounds like something you guys would like to see, let me know!


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